Wishing on a Dream
by Atari-chan
Summary: Just a cute JohnnyEnrique songfic I wrote one day.


Disclaimer: I don't own anything that's already owned by someone else.  
  
Title: Wishing on a Dream  
  
Rating: Uhh . . . PG-13 just to be safe.  
  
Dedication: Hmm . . . I've got into the habit of dedicating now. How annoying . . . well this is for Maia because she's persuaded me that I'm not a total failure on fanfiction *huggles Maia* you like beyblade fics, then check out her account, it's Christina ^_^ she's on my faves.  
  
Summary: Songfic based on Wind's Nocturne . . . but whether that's the artist or title I have no idea. I got the song from a singing cat so I don't have a clue. This, being one of my fics, is Majestics-central. Cos I just love those boys! I mean, who doesn't? Anyway, this is just a fic about Johnny's feelings about his teammates, with the song lyrics in there somewhere. Kinda OOC, but whaddya gunna do?  
  
Pairings: Johnny/Enrique! ^_^ So cute!  
  
Authors notes: Hmm, Johnny's gonna say it this time, being the central character and all. ^_^ Go on, Johnathan.  
  
Johnny: *Glares at RA* Choose life, choose pleasure, choose the potato balls. If you would like to join the potato ballians, email Aisha for an email back. Her email address is on her bio, or here:  
  
manicmool@hotmail.com  
  
Email her, etc. etc.  
  
RA: Thanks Johnny! *Glomps Johnny* and now onto the fic!!! Sorry if I ramble on for too long; I always do. ^_^ And I know the songy bits get more spaced out towards the end, but that couldn't be helped.  
  
"Speech"  
  
~Song lyrics~  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
~Wishing on a dream that seems far off, hoping it will come today . . .~  
  
Johnny's POV: Leaning over my balcony, in my room at Oliver's mansion, where myself, and the rest of the Majestics 'team' are staying, I stare at the sky, trying to ignore the shouts coming from downstairs. From what I can gather, Enrique's stolen Oliver's hat and he won't give it back, earning himself Oliver's wrath. But he sounds like he's enjoying it if you ask me, which no one ever does. The rest of my 'team' just ignore me half the time, and insult me the other half . . . it's not fair! Just because I act like I hate them doesn't mean I don't like them.  
  
~ Into the starlit night, foolish dreamers turn their gaze, waiting on a shooting star . . .~  
  
But . . . what if they really do think that I don't like them? I'm not exactly the nicest of guys, even if you know me pretty well . . . but I'm not like evil or anything. I've just got things that I don't want people to know about me, that's all. There's no danger of them finding me out though- they've never even bothered to try and get along with me, let alone talk to me properly. I know I must sound selfish- wanting them to be nice to me when all I've hardly done the same for them, but I can't help it! That's just the way I am; I never said I wanted to be like this . . . I just turned out sarcastic and annoying . . . and being rich hardly helped.  
  
~But . . . What if that star is not to come? ~  
  
I guess that's why I still hang around with those guys- because we're all rich, European beybladers who share a lot of views. But, if you get to know us, we're all totally different. Oliver's calm and collected but on those few occasions when he gets pissed, he can be lethal. And he loves his art . . . I mean what sort of guy would rent out the biggest art museum in Paris so he could just sit all day and look at paintings?  
  
Then there's Robert, the oldest and, as much as I hate to admit it, best blader in the Majestics team. He's a pretty nice guy I guess, although some of his remarks can be a little cutting if you take them seriously. Do I even need to say that he's good at chess? I was having an off day when those Bladebreakers came for a visit, but 7-0?  
  
Don't forget Enrique, the weirdest, and blondest of the Majestics team. Even after all those hours spent with tutors, he's still a total dim bulb. He's a great guy though- despite the amount of girls he picks up randomly off the streets every day. He's such a flirt, and uses his wealth to full advantage when it comes to picking up the ladies. Although they'd probably go out with him even if he didn't have quite that much money . . . I mean look at him!  
  
~Will their dreams fade to nothing? When the horizon darkens most, we all need to believe there is hope . . .~  
  
Last, and probably least, there's me. Since I was so used to working on my own, I dismissed the idea of teammates the moment it was suggested. But, despite my objections, the Majestics are now a team. I never thought I'd say this, or even think it, but I'm glad that they didn't listen to me. I'm glad that we're a team. Even though we didn't totally work out at first, we're doing pretty well now. I guess it was fate's idea of irony, bringing together 4 separate and totally different beybladers and making a team out of them . . .and we have the Dark Bladers to thank for it.  
  
~Is an angel watching closely over me? Can there be a guiding light I've yet to see? ~  
  
Fate's an amazing thing, isn't it? Just when you think that life might actually stand still for a while and give you some peace and quiet, it throws something new at you. After the incident with the Dark Bladers, the Majestics, then just friends, went our separate ways, accepting challenges from totally amateur bladers just so we could see the looks on their faces when we beat them. Which, of course, we always did.  
  
Then the Bladebreakers came along, and happened to arrive at Robert's while I was there, no thanks to Enrique and Oliver. After watching them for a while, it became obvious that the best blader on their team was Kai.  
  
And so I challenged him, and we battled. I was sorely disappointed when I beat him so easily; I thought he'd be better than that. But apparently not. Anyway, after the Bladebreakers decided that they could only beat us as a team, they challenged us in that way. But, back then, teamwork wasn't our thing, and we lost. Badly. But this time fate threw us something we could use, and we've slowly progressed to becoming the best team in Europe, and we're actually competing in the World Championships next year.  
  
~I know my heart should guide me but . . . there's a hole within my soul . . .~  
  
But then what? After winning the championships, we'll surely go our separate ways . . . but I don't want that. I don't want to go back to Scotland, and have to live without my teammates . . . without my friends.  
  
My thoughts are interrupted again by a crash from downstairs, and I glance at the door, wondering what Enrique's broken this time. Standing up properly, I move over to my bed and collapse on it, trying unsuccessfully to block out the noise. Just as I manage to remember my train of thought, there's a knock on my door.  
  
"What?" I ask, sounding more annoyed that I intend to. Way to go Johnny, act totally cold around them; that'll make them like you.  
  
"Can I come in?" Well, if it isn't an annoying, gorgeous Italian . . . Okay I have to stop thinking that.  
  
"If you must." I reply, not bothering to sit up as Enrique comes in and locks the door behind him, "What are you doing?"  
  
"Heh, I kinda pissed Oliver off." Enrique sits down next to me as I roll my eyes.  
  
"What did you do this time?" I ask sarcastically, dreading the answer.  
  
"Hey! It's only the fourth window I've broken this month!" Enrique crosses his arms across his chest and pouts cutely.  
  
"Enrique, it's only the seventh of July." I inform him, earning myself a glare from the Italian. He looks so cute when he glares, he should do it more often. Oh no, that's not a good line of thought. Just stop now, Johnny.  
  
Looking at him again, I have to stop myself from grabbing him and kissing him senseless when I see the adorable enquiring look he has on his face. Why does he have to be so damn hot?  
  
~What will fill this emptiness inside of me? ~  
  
He continues to look at me, probably thinking that I'm going nuts due to the repeated spacing out I'm doing. I look back at him, struggling to look neutral as his sapphire orbs practically hand out an invitation for me to drown in them. Then he looks away, before collapsing on my bed next to me.  
  
"Do you ever think about what'll happen after the World Tournament?" he asks me quietly, staring at the canopy of my four-poster. He doesn't seem to want to look at me . . . what's with that?  
  
" Not really," I lie, wincing when I notice that my voice is shaking slightly. Why did he have to sit so close to me? "Do you?" I ask him, although he's obviously thought about it, or he wouldn't have asked me.  
  
"Sometimes . . ." he replies, still staring at my ceiling, "Do you think we'll all just . . . go our separate ways?" Hmm, he's obviously been thinking about this more than sometimes . . . but I've been thinking about it more than never so I guess I can't really say anything.  
  
"I guess that's possible; there's nothing more to achieve as a team after the World Championships."  
  
"So you have been thinking about it . . ." Enrique turns to look at me, again with that totally gorgeous enquiring look.  
  
I glare straight back, but he doesn't seem to get the hint, "Hm." Great, now I sound like Kai.  
  
"Are you ok, Johnny? You seem kinda . . . distracted." Oh praise the lord, there's a brain under all that blonde.  
  
"I'm fine," I reply, rolling onto my side so I'm facing away from him. Part of me wants him to just go away and leave me alone, but there's another part that wants him to stay . . .  
  
"You're not okay, Johnny." Enrique tells me, as if I need to be told what I'm feeling. I don't reply, afraid that the part of me that wants him to stay will effect what I do. He obviously notices my hesitation, and touches my arm gently. I flinch away, immediately regretting my action when he withdraws his hand, looking hurt. Much to my surprise, he doesn't leave; he just sits there silently. Turning to look at Enrique, I see he's sitting up, leaning against the backboard of my bed, with his arms wrapped around his legs, his chin on his knees and his eyes closed. Watching him for a moment, I notice a tear fall from beneath a closed eyelid.  
  
~Am I to be satisfied without knowing? ~  
  
"Enrique?" I pull myself into a sitting position, and move to beside Enrique, who wipes his eyes hurriedly, "I've already seen, Enrique, there's no point in trying to hide it . . ." I point out, raising an eyebrow. He looks briefly at me, and then returns to his own world, not looking at me. I look at him helplessly, wondering what exactly I'm supposed to do. Should I leave him alone, and let him think, or should I try and talk to him? Hesitating slightly, I go to put my hand on his shoulder, but he moves away.  
  
Now I think I know why he's crying . . . that hurts. Rolling my eyes, I wrap my arms around his waist and pull him onto my lap, "Don't you try and get away from me. We're in my room." I say quietly. He tenses, obviously unwilling to be in such close quarters with me, but I'm not about to let go of him. Not now, "What is it, Enrique? You can talk to me . . ."  
  
"I can't . . ." Enrique shakes his head, leaving me with not a whole lot to say.  
  
"Enrique, you only started acting like this when we talked about the team, and as a part of that team I think I deserve to know what's upsetting you," Wow, listen to me being all logical. To my surprise, and slight annoyance, this sets Enrique off crying again, "What did I say wrong this time?"  
  
"You didn't s . . . say anything wrong." Enrique manages to say in between sobs, "You're right, you deserve to know . . . but I can't . . . I just can't." he clings to me like a lost child, tears falling down his face.  
  
"You're bloody difficult, you know that?" I say, but not in my usual sarcastic tone. It's still sarcastic, sure, but softer . . . does Enrique realise what he's doing to me?  
  
"I try." He's obviously trying to calm down; there's just the occasion sniffle now, but I know he's not feeling any better. He's still totally tense, despite having his head leaning against my chest. It's like . . . he's scared of me, "I'm sorry." He says quietly.  
  
"For what?" I ask, looking down at him. His eyes are red from crying, and for the first time I notice the dark rings around them. I don't think he's slept properly in weeks.  
  
"Just . . . being such a major pain." He looks back up at me, and I find myself unable to tear myself away from those beautiful blue orbs, that are shining with unfallen tears. He doesn't look away, so I'm just falling deeper and deeper into the sea of blue, only dimly aware that our faces are drifting closer and closer.  
  
~ I wish then for a chance to see . . . ~  
  
Then our lips touch, and fire spreads through every fibre in my body. With one hand on the back of his neck, and the other arm around his waist, I pull him closer, tasting salt tears on his lips.  
  
Well, as you may know, it's VERY hard to make out with someone who's sitting on your lap. Cradling Enrique in my arms, I lay him on the bed next to me, then lean down to press my lips once again to his. I'm trying to not crush him, but it becomes increasingly difficult as the kiss intensifies, and Enrique's arms around my neck pull me down on top of him.  
  
Eventually, however, we have to break apart from lack of oxygen. I pull away, slightly breathless, and can't help but stare at the gorgeous angel beneath me. He has one hand in my hair, and the other on my -ahem- lower back, but he's still got that totally cute innocent expression. His breathing's heavier than usual, and blonde hair hangs in his eyes, which are, yet again, filling with tears.  
  
"Enrique . . ." I lean down to kiss his cheek, then lay beside him, holding him in my arms, "What's the matter?"  
  
"Why did you do that? Do you pity me, is that it?" he sounds annoyed now . . . although that's hardly surprising considering what he just said . . . I don't know what to do around the guy any more; if I'd left him alone he'd have just accused me of not caring! He's so damn confusing!  
  
"Eny, I don't pity you. Why would you think that?" I have to ask where the hell he got that idea from . . . maybe I'll come close to understanding him.  
  
"You never did anything like that before; why start now?"  
  
I pause. He moves out of my arms and turns to look at me, looking upset and angry at the same time, "Because . . . I was scared." I admit, looking away from him, "Scared you didn't . . . feel that way about me. I didn't want to lose you." Oh great, I sound like a lovesick puppy . . . or what a lovesick puppy would sound like if it could talk, I'm sure. And to top it all off, I feel like I'm about to burst into tears. I love him, why can't he see that?  
  
~ Now all I need (desperately) . . . ~  
  
Enrique doesn't say anything for a moment, so I glance at him, wondering what his reaction to that's gonna be. Knowing him, he's going to jump out the window or something . . .  
  
"I am such a bastard . . ." Well, that was equally weird and unpredictable . . . although it didn't involve the breaking of glass. How boring . . . what the hell am I thinking?  
  
"I know. But I love you for it." I smile slightly, and cup his chin in my hand. He looks at me, then smiles back, before settling down in my arms. I hold him close, "And while you're not acting like this bastard that you are, I wanna make a few things clear. So repeat after me, okay?"  
  
"O. . .kay," he sounds freaked out . . . well that's hardly surprising.  
  
"I, Enrique Giancarlo . . ."  
  
He frowns slightly, but plays along, "I, Enrique Giancarlo . . ."  
  
"Am, and always will be, a Majestic." I say, knowing this is making me sound VERY stupid. But for some strange reason, I don't really care.  
  
"Am, and always will be, a Majestic." He repeats, obviously finding this kind of funny.  
  
"And I will never forget that, as long as I live." I smile, wondering if he's actually paying attention or if he's just mindlessly repeating all that I say,  
  
"And I will never forget that, as long as I live." Again, he repeats me. I wonder how long I can keep him going for . . .  
  
"These aren't the druids you're looking for."  
  
"These aren't the . . . JOHNNY!!!" smiling innocently at him, I jump off the bed and move towards the door, knowing how much he hates to look like an idiot. Oh wait . . . he locked it earlier . . . shit. Leaning against the door, I give Enrique a sarcastic smile as he sits on my bed, spinning the keychain on his finger. Hitting my head against the wall, I wait for my imminent death. He walks slowly over to me, still spinning the keychain, and then stops right in front of me. He stops spinning the key, and just holds it in his hand for a moment, before throwing it onto the table beside my door. I glance at it, wondering how best to grab it before he notices, then dismiss any thought of leaving as he crushes his body against mine, and kisses me, keeping me pinned against the door. All conscious thought is blocked from my mind as I lose myself in him, kissing him passionately, and moving my hands underneath his shirt.  
  
I think you all know what happens next.  
  
~ Is my star to come . . . ~  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Yay!!! I'm finally done!!! This has taken me . . . okies my properties menu is screwed . . . it says I took less than a minute to finish this . . . Anyhoo!!! If you're still reading now PLEASE press that little blue button by the drop down menu! Reviews make my day ^_^ I made cookies! *offers cookies to all reviewers*  
  
(Small print: Food poisoning from Radical Aisha's baking is not covered by any form of life insurance.) 


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